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Grubby Little Paws

April 29th, 1997

Well, here I am again, almost a year later trying to get a bit of my life into words. A whole lot has changed, and I'll try to tell you as much as I can. I want to be able to write my feelings in this book, but some things shouldn't even be thought about. I need to tell someone, or something though. And telling it to no one at all is about as low as I can get. And since I'm so sure that other eyes, prying eyes of my family are bound to get their grubby little paws on this, I'll say, hi, welcome to my view on life.

Sometimes I hate life, just plain old life. You know, walking down the hallways at school knowing it's going to be one more day of hell. Well, actually, it starts the first thing in the morning most days. Ok, so, if my trusty old alarm clock fails to wake me up, I don't give a ----, because it never does - useless! Piece of ----! So either Venessa's (Vanessa now - don't ask) blow dryer wakes me up, a nauseating sound, or mom banging pots and pans in the kitchen at 5:30, or dad's chickens outside, or mom popping in every two minutes, "come on, it's six o'clock." Just knowing I've got to get up and face another pointless day makes me sick. Ok, then I finally manage to roll over, open one eye, and see that it's 6:20, "oh five, maybe ten more minutes." I get up, open my closet, or grab the clothes on my chair and drudge downstairs, shower or just slap deodorant on, or shower the night before, which I found works much better, and try to think up reasons that today is or could be a good day. HAH! That's a laugh.

Between mom screaming at Venessa to hurry up, and choosing either toast, cottage cheese, yogurt, oatmeal, or some other delectable tasty treats (an understatement) we finally manage to make it out the door to seminary at no earlier than, say 7:10, 7:15. Then the ride there, in the words of Desi Arnaz, "I'yih I'yih - Yih!" "Going to Victoria's today Venessa?"

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